Circumstance
by orangesunset12
Summary: In which the Villain is Circumstance, the Victim is Everybody, and Nobody rises up to be the Hero. Because everyone knows Jason's story; yet, no one knows it at all.
1. Villain

**Now:**

"Stop!"

The scream rang out across the bloodied floor. Jason's fists dripped red, as red as the anger inside of him. A cry was bubbling up in his throat like vomit.

Nightwing stood at the other end of the roof. His face was wet.

"Don't do this," he pleaded. "Please..."

Jason barked out a hollow laugh. He kneeled down onto the cold steel until he was face to face with his victim.

"Jason..." Batman coughed.

Jason smiled, a stretched out, thin smile. He was so tired...

"It's Red Hood," he corrected snarkily. "You have no right to say that name anymore."

"Jason," Batman repeated. Jason felt a fire start in his stomach.

He struck Batman once more, savouring the feeling of the punch, the scream let out by Nightwing a few meters away.

Nobody has hurt more than him.

Nobody.

Nightwing ran forward. "You don't have to do this. Please," he said, "don't!"

But Jason had the barrel of his gun to Batman's temple. He let Batman get accustomed to the cold of death on his forehead, like a mark. (And there was an imaginary timer, counting down to an imaginary bomb, and maybe an imaginary saviour who would come too late anyway.)

"Tell me, Bruce," he spat. "Did you think it would end this way?"

"... It doesn't have to end at all," Batman said softly.

"It has to!" Jason shook unsteadily. "It has to end! I don't want to- I can't take this anymore!"

Nightwing put a hand on Jason's shoulder.

"Jason," he choked, "how did it end up this way?"

* * *

 **Before:**

"...Jason?"

He cautiously moved towards the dark figure, batarang in hand. Tim thought of everybody he thought would be here, and decided that his dead predecessor was not one of his suspects.

"...Robin."

Tim flinched. The stories he'd heard of Jason Todd hadn't all been pleasant, sure, but somehow he'd still imagined someone powerful. Someone strong.

(This man was broken).

"How... I thought you were dead," he whispered.

The man clucked his tongue in a disapproving manner. He moved closer to Tim, who instinctively moved back.

The barrels of his guns shone in the dark.

Jason cocked his head. "I am dead," he said. "Batman buried me with you."

Stepping backwards, Tim felt his heel touch the wall. He was cornered inside this warehouse, with a possibly maniacal ghost of the previous Robin.

And he looked so angry...

"Don't be afraid," Jason said, with a sarcastic ring in his voice. "You're not the one I want."

"Who do you want?"

His small question seemed to hit Jason with the force of a wrecking ball. Sucking in a breath, Tim reached his hand in his utility belt and grasped a flash grenade.

Just in case. Because this was Jason Todd, but at the same time, it was not.

"Go back to him," Jason snapped. He noticed Tim reaching for a weapon. "Go back to him, and tell him I'm alive. Tell him to meet me in the warehouse."

"Which one?" Tim questioned, looking uneasily around the warehouse he was in currently.

A grin grew on Jason's face. "He knows which one."

* * *

 **Before:**

"Hey!"

The man fell with a loud thump onto the pavement. He stood back up again and glared at the person who had knocked him over.

"Hey, you!" He said indignantly. "Ya gonna apologise or what?"

Jason's eye twitched. The first person he'd spoken to once leaving Ra's base had to be an idiot. An ugly one, at that.

He glared pointedly at the man, and he seemed to get the message. Jason continued walking along the street, breathing in the smoky air, trying to get the blood in his veins flowing again. But everywhere he looked was shadow, blackness tinted with rage, a blood red only created by the devil and his crowbar.

He walked quicker, trying to drown his thoughts with his heavy footsteps. But the screams never stopper coming, never ceased.

Then he realised the screams weren't in his head at all.

"St-stop... please," a girl cried.

He rounded the alleyway to face two men, blood on their fists. A girl was crying between them.

"Stop," Jason said. His voice sounded loud and big in the small corner of Gotham.

The bigger, more surly man cast a dirty look in his direction.

"None of your business," he spat. "Just go on home to your mommy and daddy, and we can spare you a whole lotta pain."

And that was when Jason realised Gotham would never be the same. It would always, now and forever, be laughing at him.

That was the first time Jason killed someone, directly, efficiently. But not efficient enough.

"Sorry Bruce," he whispered with the last shred of remorse in him. "But guns will have to do."

* * *

 **Before:**

"Again."

Talia raised her sword and struck down at him. He rolled to the side, panting heavily.

His body... it felt so foreign.

He reached with his hands for her legs, and pulled down. She tumbled to the ground, but landed on top of him, sword pointed at throat.

"Enough, Talia!" Ra's ordered from his chair.

Jason rubbed his neck as Talia withdrew. He punched the shiny wooden floorboards, ignoring Talia's offer to help him stand.

"Jason," Ra's Al Ghul said.

Jason flinched. No matter what this man said, Jason did not owe him anything. Did not owe him his new life, or his new skills.

Ra's Al Ghul was the enemy. Jason was not the enemy.

He just wanted to go home...

"You are distracted," Ra's continued. "Your thoughts are occupied by far away places you will never reach."

"Shut up!" Jason growled. "I can leave any time I want!"

"But you never leave, because you are afraid."

Ra's stepped off his dais and crouched down next to Jason. Jason's eyes, now Pit green, stared at the floor.

"I thought I was doing Batman a service," Ra's said softly, "bringing you back to life. Now I see it was a mistake, for both him and you."

Unwanted tears pricked Jason's eyes.

"Father," Talia soothed.

"No," Jason snapped. "You're right. I'm just a mistake. I'll get out of your hair now, if that's what you want."

He stood up abruptly and stormed off, anger bubbling inside him.

"Jason!" Talia called. "Jason, don't go back!"

Jason tried to block out the sounds. He didn't need them. He'd go back to Batman, and everything would be just as it used to be.

"Jason..." He could still hear her faint cries. "He'll never accept you! He'll never accept..."

* * *

 **Before:**

"Now."

They lowered the body into the shimmering green pool. Wisps of smoke rose from it, like ghostly fingers from the Nether-realms. They grasped around the room as if lost.

The boy touched the pool, and it started to churn. Soon the body was swallowed, bubbles exploding at the surface at a rapid pace, until a gargled scream could be heard from underneath the surface. The men with the masks stepped back from the Lazarus Pit, forming a line in front of their master.

Ra's Al Ghul perceived this all in a calm manner. The breaking of his arch enemy, after all, was not to be enacted by a measly clown.

The scream emerged from the surface, as the boy that was Jason Todd stood up in the acidic Pit. Pain swelled inside him from every inch of his skin, every nerve in his body, until he was almost numb.

Ra's stepped forward, commanding his soldiers to part before him. He gestured for his daughter to come as well.

"Who are you?" he asked.

The boy's green eyes flashed with recognition, and anger. "I... I'm Jason," he spluttered. "And you're... you're-!"

He raised his hand. "We are not enemies here, Robin. You are reborn, and you have us to thank for it."

Jason covered his ears. "No. No no no, I'm dead, I don't understand! Batman! Where's Batman? Take me to him, please!"

Talia put her hand on Jason's arm lightly.

"No more Batman," she said gently. "From now on, Batman is dead to you."

* * *

 **Before:**

"Robin!"

Batman scrambled over the bricks and dust. His boots scraped the charred and jagged pieces of the walls, scratching the Kevlar plates. But his white lenses went on searching, scouring like watchmen at night.

He had to find Robin. He couldn't fail him.

The wind blew gently, fluttering Batman's cape softly. It sang a soft lullaby. A sad lullaby.

At last Batman came to the source of the explosion: a bomb, painted with a smiling face. It seemed as though the Joker had deliberately left the shell of it, as a taunt.

Batman closed his hand around it and crushed it.

"Jason..."

He clambered over a particularly huge rock and slid down, until he was in a small crater. And there, painted with the flaming sun, was Robin.

Jason. His son.

"Jason!" He cried, putting his arms around the small child.

His arms immediately coating with blood. And there was so much of it- how could someone even have this much?

"No, no, I'm sorry..." Batman took off his cowl and attempted to resuscitate him. Maybe, if Jason saw his face...

No. A mistake. Batman was not allowed to make mistakes...

"Jason," Batman choked. "Jason, how did it end up this way?"

* * *

 **Before:**

"DICK!"

He laughed as he dodged the younger boy's blows. Jason let out a cry of rage, and barrelled into the unmasked Nightwing. A few bats in the rafters flew away at the loud sounds of battle.

"Hey, Jaybird, don't be a sore loser," Dick teased.

"I am not a sore loser!" Jason said indignantly. "You're just a jerk!"

Holding out a hand, Dick helped Jason up. With Batman refusing to let Robin patrol on injury grounds, he had called a 'babysitter' (Jason's words) to look after him. And, of course, the first call was to Dick Grayson.

The former Robin. The better Robin.

"Again, Jason," Dick persisted. "Practice makes perfect."

"Sure made you perfect," Jason muttered.

Nightwing leaned against a table and took a look at his newly found younger brother. As far as he could see, they knew next to nothing about each other. All he knew was that Jason loved chillidogs and the colour red- great for hanging out, but not so good for understanding each other.

Somehow, Nightwing had the distinct feeling that Jason was jealous of him.

"Jason," Dick said.

"What-"

Dick crushed him in his arms, and Jason let out a little air and a little squeal.

"Gak, what are you-"

"I love you Jay," Dick murmured, "and so does Bruce and Alfred. I hope you remember that."

Jason coughed as Dick released him. "Gee, Golden Boy, sappy much?"

But Dick could see the smile that tugged at Robin's lips, and he returned one of his own.

"You know what?"

"What?" Jason asked, slightly annoyed.

Dick smiled. "You'll make a great hero someday."

* * *

 **Before:**

"No!"

"Dick, please-"

Jason stood on the top of the staircase, looking down intently. Underneath him, Bruce and Dick were traversing the floor. Dick was agitatedly waving him arms in the air.

"No, Bruce! Do you hear yourself? He's just a kid-"

"And so were you!"

Dick frowned. "Isn't that why you fired me? Because I'm just a kid?!"

Bruce's eyes darted up to the staircase, as if he sensed Jason's presence. Immediately, Jason shrunk back, pulling the blanket of shadows up to his chin. It was late at night and he was supposed to be sleeping, and he was too new to get into trouble already.

But the voices had been loud, and he had been curious. And they were talking about him...

"Jason needs this," Bruce said, quieter than before. "I can't let him turn out any other way..."

"He could turn out normal! You gave him a chance at a normal life, don't take it away from him!"

"Dick, I know what Robin means to you-"

"Do you?" Dick let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't want Jason growing up with Batman. I want Jason growing up with you, Bruce! Then maybe things wouldn't turn out as badly as they did with us..."

Bruce stiffened, as if someone had electrocuted him. Even from Jason's distance, he could feel the cold waves pouring out of his new guardian.

"He will be Robin," Bruce said flatly. "And you have no say in that."

Dick's eyes flashed with hurt as Bruce walked away.

"You'll kill him, Bruce!" He yelled hoarsely. "You'll kill him!"

* * *

 **Before:**

"Stop!"

Batman stopped, holding his hands in the air. The buildings surrounding the alleyway were dirty, covered in mould and tar. The ground reeked of blood and sweat.

Some place for a kid to be in, Bruce thought.

The kid in question raised a small crowbar as a defensive weapon, though Batman knew it would do no harm. His black hair fell over his blue eyes. And god, he was so small...

"I'm not going to hurt you," he growled, but the kid only looked more terrified. The wheels he had stolen were in a pile behind him.

A bit funny, actually, a kid taking the wheels off the Batmobile. It would be funny, if the kid didn't look like he hadn't eaten in a week.

"Look," Batman tried again, but ditching the trying-to-sound-like-an-earthquake voice, "no weapons." He dropped his belt. "See?"

The boy took a cautious step forward, raising his crowbar higher. Batman knelt until he was on the same level as him.

"What's your name, kid?"

The boy narrowed his eyes. "Jason," he said quietly.

"Well, Jason," he said. "Where do you live?"

In an instant a flash of fear lighted in his eyes, and Bruce knew his worst suspicions had been confirmed.

A street kid. Probably an orphan. (Because not everyone had the luxury of being a billionaire when they have been through hell.)

"Jason, listen to me. Do you want to get out of here?"

Jason cocked his head, as if measuring the worth of Batman's words. A smart kid. Probably learned the harsher ways of life.

"Where will you take me?"

"Somewhere safe."

His eyes brightened at that. Perhaps 'safe' was all anyone ever needed.

"Come here, Jason," Bruce said. "I'll never let anything hurt you, ever again."

* * *

 **Hey guys, I'm back! I know I should be updating Condescending, but seriously I'm kinda stuck. I just came up with this idea randomly in the car. I hope you enjoyed it! Please like or review or follow if you want more, 'cause I have some ideas of a second chapter, but I'm also happy to just leave it here. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Victim

**Them:**

"No..."

Batman stood up, shaking. The gun had left an imprint on his forehead, uncovered by the cowl hanging at the back of his neck.

Jason was shaking as well. The gun had left an imprint on his mind.

"Jason," Batman gasped, once he dared to say something. "You didn't..."

The second Robin sucked in a breath. "I didn't spare you," he reasoned nervously. "I didn't. You just weren't worth it."

Nightwing stepped uneasily between them. Batman watched, looking at his two oldest sons.

(That's right. Jason was his son. Was and is and always will be.)

"Come home, Jason." Nightwing stepped forward and Red Hood stepped back. "This... this isn't you."

Jason shook his head, slowly. "Dick, you don't get it," he said quietly. "This is me. He... you made me like this."

Batman swallowed. "No, Jason, we can get you help-"

"Help?" Jason's green eyes flashed. "What kind of help? Medical help?! You think I'm crazy?!"

"No, I never said-"

"No! The Joker is crazy! I'm doing what needs to be done! I... I'm not... I'm not the Joker," he gasped. "I'm not..."

"You aren't." Batman reached out to touch him. Jason let him.

"I can't," he said. "I can't."

Dick bit his lip. "Why not?"

"I know what I am," Red Hood whispered. "I know what I am to you."

Batman shook his head. "No, you don't-"

He looked at them, almost apologetically.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But good soldiers don't get to go home."

* * *

 **Him:**

"Mmmm..."

Tim mumbled sleepily, head leaning against the desk. Papers scrawled with equations laid underneath his cheek, and a pool had formed with his drool.

"Tim?"

He bolted awake, spinning his chair around.

"Bruce!" He said excitedly. "You came back!"

Batman chucked softly. Tim scanned him with his eyes, observing with quiet delight that there were no prominent scars.

Not physical ones, anyway. But he looked so tired...

"Falling asleep at the desk again?"

Tim pulled a face. "I was working," he said, "I just lost track of time."

Bruce sighed, pulling up a chair.

"Where's Dick?" Tim asked.

Bruce shook his head wearily. "He went to clear his head a bit," he replied softly.

Tim frowned. "And... Jason?"

At this Bruce stiffened. Tim felt a shiver go down the top of his spine to the bottom, like it does when there was someone right behind him.

"Go to bed," Bruce sighed, and he walked up the stairs.

Tim was left staring at the empty space where Bruce used to be. Directly behind it was a glass case, and within it, a skin without a body.

A costume.

"Oh, Jason," Tim said sadly, "what did you do?"

* * *

 **Her:**

"Surprise."

She folded her arms, unamused. "To whom do I owe to annoyance of your presence?"

Dick stepped back, removing his hands from over her eyes.

"It's good to see you again, Babs," he smiled.

Barbara rolled her eyes. "You're only here because you want something," she teased. "So spill. What is it?"

Dick traced the wheel of her wheelchair silently. The smile faded from Barbara's face.

"...Dick?" She frowned at him. "Dick, what's wrong?"

He sighed. "You were right, Babs. Jason's alive."

She sat up straighter. The bullet wound in her spine tingled faintly.

Jason Todd, the second Robin.

The first victim...

"Is he... alright?"

He shook his head hastily, then hesitated. "I don't know," Dick admitted. "He... he tried to kill Batman. But he didn't. So... so is that alright, or is it not?"

Barbara drummed her armrest thoughtfully. When, in flames of anger, she woke up in the nights, she always reminded herself it could be worse.

She lost her legs- her freedom, her dignity. She lost Batgirl, and Batgirl was almost everything.

But Jason... he did lose everything. Maybe more.

"It's not alright," she replied. "But I have faith in him."

Dick's eyes closed. "Do... do you blame Bruce? For not killing... for not killing the Joker?"

She shook her head, vigorously. "Maybe I want him to, in a way," she said. "But to kill the Joker is to let him win."

Barbara clenched her fists.

"And," she whispered, "we cannot let him win."

* * *

 **Him:**

"Sir!"

Bruce winced at the touch. Alfred frowned as he applied alcohol to a bruise that had formed on Bruce's left cheek, blue and purple and black.

"I see the young Master has not lost any of his strength," he remarked, though warily.

Bruce smiled slightly. "No, he hasn't. He's just as strong as he used to be, maybe even stronger."

Alfred hurried to the other side of the medical bay to collect the gauze. It had been piled, rather messily, into a cupboard. One of its hinges was rusting. He'd have to fix that.

"Has Tim gone to bed yet?"

"Well, unlike you, he does know his limits," Alfred quipped.

Bruce rolled his eyes. For a moment, Alfred was reminded of a redheaded child, whom upon entering the Manor had proceeded to clear out the kitchen with a single meal.

He quickly gathered up the gauze and returned to his employer, who was staring at the walls.

"Master Wayne?"

"Huh?" Bruce looked up, still half caught in his little reverie. "Oh. Sorry, Alfred, I just..."

He sighed. "Did I do the right thing? Adopting Jason?"

"Well, I daresay sir, if you are having second doubts about helping children in need-"

"He would have been better off without me," Bruce choked.

Alfred wrung his hands out. "Maybe, sir," he conceded, "but maybe things could have been a lot worse. At the very least, he was happy here."

"I should have been there. I was too late."

"I think you have found that being on time is very difficult, judging by your business records," the butler said wryly.

"Bruce Wayne is late. Batman isn't."

"The last time I checked, Bruce Wayne was Batman. And Bruce Wayne can make all the same mistakes as Batman, just as Batman can make the same mistakes as Bruce Wayne." He paused. "Never forget, sir, that you are no more than one man."

Bruce looked away. "Batman is more than just a man..."

Alfred wrapped the gauze around him slowly. "And Robin is more than just a boy," he said. "But even Robin falls, sometimes."

"Falls..." Bruce muttered. "Even Robin falls..."

* * *

 **Her:**

"Tim!"

She shook his shoulder roughly, producing a mild groan. Tim opened his eyes blearily and looked up to see a blurry face.

"Steph?"

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Wow, what a genius," she mocked.

He sat up, his hair falling over his eyes. The current Batgirl shook her head, wondering how someone so dense became Batman's closest sidekick.

She could do better, after all. She could take down the world.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "What time is it?"

"Like, 4 am," she said breezily. "Don't get your panties in a twist. I just wanted to know what was going on."

"Going on?"

"Yeah, Timmy, going on. It's no secret that B had a run-in with the masterful, gun-toting zombie Jason Todd."

Scrubbing his hand against his eye, Tim gestured for Stephanie to sit down. She promptly collapsed into his work chair, swinging her legs over the side, her head on the armrest.

"You could sit in it properly, you know," he remarked.

"But that would mean being normal, Tim, and you know I can't have that."

He smiled softly and she returned it with a grin. Dense as he was, he was kinda cute.

"I don't know," he sighed. "Bruce wouldn't tell me, and Dick wasn't even there. I think it went badly..."

Stephanie cocked her head as she considered this. For most of her vigilante life, Jason Todd had been a cautionary tale.

Don't disobey, or you'll end up dead. That sort of thing.

But Batgirl never really considered who Jason Todd really was. They never talked about it, for obvious reasons... but still.

Jason Todd must've been really loud before, because in his place was a great big silence.

(And the sound of a ticking timer.)

"Too bad, then," she frowned. "He sounds like a great guy."

* * *

 **Him:**

"...Dick?"

He smiled at Tim. "What are you doing awake?"

Dick slid the window wider and slipped in. Tim sat awake, staring at him.

"You know," he said, "you're the second person who's come in through my window."

Dick shrugged and ruffled Tim's hair playfully, already knowing Tim's other midnight visitor.

"Where did you go?"

"Babs' place," Dick replied.

"...Why?"

He offered his second successor a weary smile. "I needed to sort things out," he said slowly.

"Oh."

It was very obvious what Tim wanted to ask Dick. He could see the question burning on his tongue, flaming like only curiosity could.

"They had a fight," Dick offered.

"A fight?"

"Yeah. And... well, Batman lost."

Batman lost. But in that battle, nobody won.

"But I didn't see any scars," Tim murmured.

"You wouldn't have. There weren't many." Dick sighed. "Jason didn't win by strength."

Tim paused. "Jason hurt him?"

Dick looked at him, and suddenly, Jason's face appeared before him like a ghost. "Bruce hurt him first," he defended.

"That doesn't make it right..." he hesitated. "Does it?"

Dick put his head in his hands. Of course it didn't- but was it too much to ask, just for everything to be right?

"I just... I just can't..." Dick choked. "He's not a villain. He can't be. He's my... he's our..."

"Brother," Tim finished. He looked a mix between jealous and melancholy.

Dick nodded. "Brother," he repeated. "Now and always."

* * *

 **You:**

"Sorry..."

Bruce kneeled into the grass, soil slowly hugging his knees. He felt his heart squeeze like an accordion. A pitiful, half-written melody wrung out.

The stone stood before him, as cold as a bullet.

"Jason," he gasped, "I didn't mean to. I didn't think that this was going to happen. I didn't..."

His empty words rolled carelessly off the gravestone. Trembling, he held his hand up to the name engraved into it.

Jason Todd. Beloved son, beloved brother.

(Beloved soldier.)

"I wish I could take it back. I wish I could- I wish I could, I wish I would- I can't-"

He pounded his fist into the dirt. Soil flung up around him on impact, a fine spray sent up into the morning mist. In the tear-stained grass his fist clenched for something, anything, to break the grave in two.

But he was too tired to break anything. Not today.

"I wish you were here." Bruce paused. "No. I wish I was there. I wish I was there to protect you, Jason. I wish I hadn't been too late."

Someone called out from across the graveyard, a young and clear voice. It only made Bruce sadder.

No one so young should be here, he thought. Not like him.

(Not like Jason.)

"I wish..." Bruce took a deep breath. "I wish you loved me, again."

* * *

 **Me:**

"Dammit!"

Gunshots rang out from across the carpark. A steaming Toyota lay in the center of it, smoke rising to the dark clouds. A storm was brewing.

Jason stood on top of the wrecked Toyota. It was empty, as the passengers inside it had fled quickly when they saw the guns.

Criminals. They got flashier by the minute.

"Stay still, would you?"

The thief stuttered. "Please... don't hurt me!"

Red Hood stepped off his self-made perch, landing hard in front of the criminal. His barrels gleamed golden.

"Why wouldn't I?" He snapped. "That little girl probably made the same request, and what did you do to her?"

"I... I didn't do nothin', I swear!"

He cocked his gun. "You didn't do nothing, alright," Jason seethed. "She was ten! She had her whole life ahead of her! What makes you think you had the right to take that away?!"

"I didn't know... God, I didn't mean to, I'd take it back-"

"Take it back?!"

Jason punched him in the face. His knuckles dripped with blood, as they had often done, as they would often do.

"You can't take it back," he whispered. "She's gone. And she'll never return."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" The murderer stepped back, hands raised.

"No you're not," Jason growled. "Not yet."

He shot him, bullets piercing his armour and skin. Soon the blood pooled underneath, like red paint. It was a familiar sight.

"Stay dead," Jason warned. "It's better for everyone that way."

* * *

 **Us:**

"Shh..."

Tim whimpered, hands clutching his utility belt nervously. Usually he wasn't so scared; Batman was there, and this always calmed him. But this time was different.

This time, it was Batman that was scared.

"Red Hood," Batman called out.

The criminal (hero? brother?) flinched. Robin twisted his hands in his cape, praying that things hadn't gone this way. A simple drug bust had turned into a blood feud, and blood wasn't even spilled yet.

Of all the times Tim Drake had wished he had the Robin costume, this time he wanted to tear it off. It was like an insult.

Here I am! Your replacement! God, it was like a glaring spotlight.

"Batman," Jason replied, equally as emotionless.

Batman took a step forward. "You took their lives," he said calmly.

"Yeah, so? They took other lives! They deserved it!"

It was like a funny little dance they were doing; one would step back, the other step forward. Like slow-motion tango.

And him, Robin, a spectator. Not part of the performance at all.

"Nobody deserves to die," Batman growled.

"Yeah," Red Hood scoffed. "Not even the Joker, right? Not even after he killed me?"

"...That's different."

"No. No it isn't."

Tim scuffed his foot against the floor anxiously. What did Jason want? Acknowledgement? Redemption?

Death again?

"Jason!" Bruce yelled- for it was Bruce, not Batman, speaking now. Red Hood froze.

"I know you won't accept my apologies," he continued, "and I know why. You're angry. But, Jason..."

"Nothing you say will change-"

"I love you."

Jason fell silent.

"I love you," Bruce said quietly. "I missed you. Maybe you don't need me, but I need you."

"I need you..." Jason repeated.

Silence fell again like a heavy blanket. Red Hood put his guns back into his holsters, and, without saying a word, started to leave. Batman didn't call out, didn't say anything. He turned around to leave as well.

Was this... what understanding was?

With a swish of his cape, Batman melted into the shadows and left. Red Hood and Robin remained.

"Wait!" Robin called.

Jason turned around slowly. Mustering up all the courage he had, Robin unpinned the 'R' from his costume. Clutching it tightly, he held it out.

"I... I think I have something that belongs to you."

Jason took a few steps forward, then removed his helmet. Two pairs of domino masks stared at each other. Each one was daring the other to make a move.

Then, with slow deliberation, Jason stretched out his hand towards the symbol. He wrapped his hand around Tim's and closed it.

Tim looked up in shock, and saw Jason was smiling. He smiled back.

An understanding.

"Promise me something, Robin," he said. "Promise me you won't end up like me."

Robin drew the symbol back and pinned it to his chest.

"I promise."

* * *

 **Hey guys! This took me a while, so sorry for the loooong wait. I've decided that this going to be a three-shot, so just one chapter left until I can count it as complete! Thanks for the follows and favourites, and thanks especially to Chronicles of Potter for reviewing. But general thanks to people hwo just stopped by and read it, I hope it was enjoyable!**

 **See you for the last chapter!**


	3. Hero

**One:**

"Hey!"

Tim laughed, swatting Dick's hand away. The sun painted the sky in an orange-pink hue, and the clouds' silver linings shone brightly. Wind breezed through the purple flowers and turquoise trees.

"I'm the birthday boy," Dick pouted. "At least let me tickle you!"

Bruce smiled as he watched this from afar. He sipped on ginger ale (not pretending it to be wine or anything- he genuinely liked it now) and stood at the side of the party, watching people mingle.

He looked at his family, and how he'd never have imagined having one so big. Barbara sat in one corner, talking to Stephanie. Alfred was busy handling the drinks and snacks. Cassandra stood in one corner, still quite new, and still quite nervous. And of course, Dick and Tim were doing whatever they were doing next to the chocolate fountain.

Bruce had adamantly refused his oldest son's request for that fountain, but really, he should've known Dick had already bought it.

Everyone was here. Everyone, except...

Suddenly, the whole party went quiet. Bruce turned around and saw what held everyone's voices.

"...Hey."

Dick stood up quickly. Jason didn't move from the corridor, picking at the walls' white paint. He wasn't in his Red Hood costume.

"Jason," Dick gasped, and a grin stretched wide on his face.

Awkwardly, Jason made his way forward. He held out a box.

"I didn't, um. I didn't forget. Am I... invited?"

Dick took the box, and then wrapped Jason in his arms.

"You're always invited, Jay," he whispered. "Always."

* * *

 **Word:**

"Boat... ta... take..."

Tim flipped the card over.

"G...goo...?"

"Good," he pronounced carefully.

"Good," Cassandra repeated, screwing up her mouth in frustration. "Good."

She rang the word in her head several times. She wished words came to her as easily as the body did. The body never lied- it was simple, plain, there for all the world to see. But words were masks, and they were tricky. Some mean one thing, some mean two, and some mean nothing at all.

"Don't worry," Tim smiled. "You're really getting the hang of it, Cass. Just a little more practice-"

The bell rang, sounding a cheerful 'ding!'. Dick flipped over the couch and ran to get it.

"Jason!" Dick cried happily from the doorway.

Tim stiffened immediately and dropped his cards. Cassandra frowned- Tim was anxious and scared, but at the same time, excited. It was very confusing.

Jason Todd. Second Robin. Dead. Alive.

Cassandra thought he was very confusing as well.

"I'm only here for free food," Jason sighed as he walked in, "so don't expect a sleepover or any-"

He froze. Cassandra stood up, because she could see he was uncomfortable. Because of her.

Tim bit his lip. "This is Cass- Cassandra Cain. She's our new, uh, sister."

Dick flounced over, brightly grinning. "You'll love her, Jay," he said, "she could beat all of us with her eyes closed!"

Cassandra extended her hand (this was a greeting). He didn't take it, because he was afraid, and very sad.

Yes. He was not confusing, only sad. Sad and angry. Cassandra didn't want him to be sad and angry.

(She will say good things, then. Good things make people happy.)

"Hello," she said politely. She smiled.

"...Hi."

This was not working. He was less afraid, but still as sad. He was missing something.

She pointed to him. "Good," she said simply.

Jason blinked and coughed like he was choking. "What?"

"Good," she repeated.

"M-me?"

"Yes," she responded. "Me. Good."

Jason's face screwed up like he was confused, but Cassandra didn't understand. She had hoped he would be happy now, but now Dick and Tim were both upset, too. They were nervous.

"You're... Cassandra, right?" he asked slowly.

"Yes. Cass-an-dra Cain."

"Hello, Cassandra Cain," Jason said. Then, suddenly, he smiled. "I think you're good, too."

She smiled back. "Good."

* * *

 **Another:**

"Cheese?"

Jason shook his head, then nodded it. It was not like he particularly wanted cheese- but he deserved it, because goddamnit, if he had to claw his way out of the ground he might as well get some cheese.

Barbara's lips quirked up. "Is that a yes or a no?"

"It's a yes," he said. "And give me the best cheese in the fridge. Like, you know, the cheddar ones."

"Bruce doesn't have cheddar."

"What? That was my favorite!"

She took out a square of mozzarella and laid it on the counter. "That's why he doesn't have it," she said quietly.

Jason watched as she took a knife from the counter and placed it just so, right on the edge. She cut a slice slowly.

Jason remembered Barbara. Always quick with her hands and her brain, back in those days. She'd always been kind to him.

Quick with her feet, too. At least she used to be.

"Alright," she announced. "Your sandwich is done."

She produced a towering lump of food, which really wasn't her fault, because Jason had requested almost everything from the fridge.

He hadn't eaten like this in so long...

"Thanks," he grinned, taking the sandwich. It was a bit difficult to hold, but nothing Jason couldn't handle. (There was a lot Jason couldn't handle.)

"Babs?" he tested, using Dick's nickname for the first time.

"Jay?" Barbara countered quickly.

"Does... does it hurt?"

She blanched. "What, getting to sit all day?" She laughed. "I get special treatment, too. So it's not all bad."

"But does it hurt?" Jason pressed.

The smile died on Barbara's lips. "Yes," she said solemnly. "Everyday."

"Then why don't you take your revenge?" Jason's hands went to the gun at his hip, the one they couldn't take away. "Why don't you want him dead?"

Barbara look up suddenly at Jason, and he could feel her eyes burning into his skull. "If I kill him," she said lowly, "then I am him."

"You'll never be him. You've saved so many lives, this is just one-"

"Is it?"

She pushed her wheelchair gently forward. "Just one more," she whispered. "That's all it takes."

"One more what?"

"Day. One more day." She took his hand in hers. "One day at a time, Jason. The Joker took away a lot of things, but we can still have this. We still have tomorrow, and we can still have hope. But if you kill him... you will kill yourself."

Jason swallowed. "But it hurts so much..."

"You're here, Jason. Can't you see?" Barbara put the knife back into the drawer. "As long as you're here, you've won. You've won."

* * *

 **Smile:**

"Hey."

Jason looked up slowly. He was sitting in the study, a book in his lap. Technically he wasn't supposed to be there, but whatever.

He just wanted to read.

"...Hi," he managed to say. But what do you say to the person you thought was your father, the person you loved, who was too late?

"What are you doing here?" Bruce said gently.

Jason stiffened. "Nothing. No- I mean, I was just reading... Leaving! I was just leaving..."

He reluctantly stood up and put the book down. He sorely wanted to fold the page, maybe come back again at another 3 a.m, but Alfred would have his head. Not that Alfred knew where he lived- then again, Alfred always knows.

"Alice In Wonderland?"

Jason immediately scowled. "It's none of your business," he snapped.

"It is my business," Bruce said firmly. "I'm your father."

The words were like a crowbar. Jason clenched his fists tightly, teeth grinding together. How dare he- did he think he was obliged to that? To be his father?

"Jason." Bruce put a hand on his shoulder.

"Get off of me," Jason growled. "You were too late before and you're too late now. You are not my father, and you never have been."

Bruce bit his upper lip. Jason faintly noticed that Bruce's hair was not messy; he hadn't just woken up, he had been awake the whole time.

Jason wondered why.

"I know," Bruce whispered. "But... I want to be. Please, Jason, just let me..."

"I'm leaving." Jason turned, and just to spite him, "I know where I'm not wanted."

It was so strange, in this place he used to call home, to be so out of place. Like a wastebasket in a church or something.

"Wait!"

Bruce walked to him and held out a book. Alice in Wonderland.

"I remember, you know. You never finished it."

"Yeah, well, I was kinda busy and all. Dying. You know..." Jason faltered. "When the bomb was counting down, I... I didn't think of Sheila, or the Joker. Or you. I just thought of how I'd never finish this book. I know it sounds stupid, but... It was too scary to think of you. I just wanted completion. Closure."

"You can have it." Bruce closed Jason's hands around the book. "It's yours."

"Really? But-"

"No buts, chum," Bruce smiled. "Take it and finish it. And you can drop by, maybe not so early in the morning, and tell me about it. Okay?"

Jason looked at the cover of the book, at Alice, still falling through a hole. He knows where she will land, but she doesn't. She must be afraid.

He smiled finally. "Okay."

* * *

 **Makes:**

"Jason..."

Things had become almost normal. Of course, he never gave up Red Hood, never stopped doing what was right. But maybe he tried a little, to let up. And those trips to the manor were purely for free food- not that that's what Dick would say.

But he wasn't in the manor. He was in his apartment, where he was supposed to be safe, but safety was never there and he knew it.

"Jason..."

"Mmmm... wha...?"

Jason rolled over and opened his eyes blearily. A wide-eyed domino mask stared back.

"What the-? Dick!"

"You're awake..." Dick smiled wearily.

He was standing in his Nightwing suit, which was supposed to be blue, but was currently red. Dripping red.

Blood. Of course. Like his life wasn't filled with it enough already.

"What happened?" Jason asked, jumping up. Dick swayed slightly on his feet, his face turning pale.

"Shooting," he slurred. "Lots of shooting. I think I'm bleeding, Jay..."

"Great observation, Sherlock," Jason said. He noticed that his voice was strung up high, almost fragile.

He hated it. He wasn't worried. Dick always made it, anyway. (And Jason didn't.)

He pulled a roll of gauze from his bedside table (no need to be subtle- he was living in the seedier parts of Gotham anyway) and quickly wrapped it around him. The gauze immediately stained cherry red.

"Thanks," Dick mumbled sleepily.

"God, Dick, you sound like you're drunk."

"Thirsty... Do you have coke?"

Jason shook his head. "I don't think you should be drinking coke right now," he said seriously. "You're almost dead."

"'m already dead," he replied.

Jason raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Already dead," he repeated. "With you..."

Jason stopped wrapping. He took a deep breath, and then continued. Dick was suffering from blood loss, after all. Jason should've expected some strange things to come out of his mouth.

"Was gonna take you out," Nightwing continued.

"Out? Where?"

"To the movies. You said you'd never went before. Was gonna buy tickets... when you came back..."

Jason didn't say anything, but Dick started to shake.

"Whoa, Dickiebird, calm down-"

"You didn't come back," Dick whined fretfully, "and everything fell apart and Bruce wouldn't smile and Alfred went silent and then Babs got shot and I was so scared..."

"It's alright," Jason soothed, shaking slightly as well. "I'm here now."

A sleepy smile spread across his face. "Nice dream..."

"This isn't a dream, Dick."

"But it's always a dream..."

Again he paused, but this time he let his hands fall into his lap. Something deep inside of him hurt, like someone had punctured his lungs and let out all the air, leaving him to die.

Again.

"Not this time, Dick," Jason reassured. "I'm real. This is real."

"But you're gonna leave again," Dick moaned. "Like you always do."

"No. This time, I'm going to stay."

Dick leaned his head forward, until it was buried in Jason's shoulder. He nuzzled it gently. "You promise?"

Jason put the gauze back carefully.

"I promise."

* * *

 **It:**

"Go away."

Jason leaned casually against the concrete block. Up here, the whole of Gotham city spread out before him. Thousands of lights shone in the night sky like thousands of fireflies, some turning on, some going out.

The darkness pressed against them.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong," Jason replied.

Tim rubbed his mask roughly, coughing out angry sighs.

"Nothing's wrong."

"Oh really? Is that why you're on a rooftop at 5 a.m by yourself?"

"I can do what I want!"

Jason walked forward and swung his legs over the lip. Robin's cape swished and melded with the darkness (finally got rid of that ridiculous yellow, did he?), billowing around Tim's small frame.

And he was small. On this rooftop, on top of Gotham, he was smaller than ever.

"You sound like an angsty teen," Jason quipped. "There's always something wrong with an angsty teen."

Tim looked up, and Jason could see the faint tear trails that ran down his face. Jason didn't say anything.

After all, he'd never had the courage to cry.

"I don't want to talk about it," Tim whispered. "You wouldn't... you wouldn't want to hear about it anyway."

Jason cocked his head. "It's... Damian, isn't it?"

He shuddered slightly in the wind. "You know about him?"

"Yeah, well, Dick called me up in the middle of the night to talk about his new little brother and how adorable he is and stuff."

Tim stiffened. "He's not adorable," he snapped, "he's arrogant and annoying and he hates me."

At this, Jason raised an eyebrow. "Oh. I get it. You're jealous!"

"Am not!"

"Am too! Oh, he hates me! Darling little perfect Timmy is finally hated!" Jason laughed, but then stopped abruptly when Tim started crying again.

"Hey... I didn't-"

"They won't need me anymore," Tim choked. "They never needed me. I was just a... stand-in. A replacement! And now they have another Robin, and they won't need me, and they'll just forget about me! I-I don't want to be forgotten!"

Jason put his hands on Tim's shoulders to stop him from falling off the edge. "Shut up," Jason snapped. Tim fell silent. "Tell me, Tim," Jason asked warily, "did he ever forget about me?"

"What? O-of course not! He never-"

"Then what makes you think he'll forget about you?"

Tim looked down at his black gloves. Across the horizon, the sun was slowly rising, pulling up the blanket of darkness from Gotham. Clouds were lit on fire.

"Is this... is this why you hated me?" Tim sighed.

"No, Tim." (I never hated you.) "I hated you because I was stupid. Now, from what I've heard, you're not stupid. Every one of us has been replaced, Tim. Even Dick used to hate me! But I know you'll handle it better than we did. Everyone knows you're the best Robin, after all."

A little smile curved on Tim's lips. "Jason?"

"Mmm?"

"I'm glad you're back," he said shyly.

Jason grinned.

"For the first time," he said, "me too."

* * *

 **Hard:**

"...I command you to talk to me."

Jason huffed, not heeding the command. Damian frowned at this.

"Todd," he scowled, "you are wasting my time."

Jason didn't move. In his mouth was a cigarette, lit and burning. The smoke drifted apart into open air until it dissipated into nothing.

It was a Monday, the day that Dick had arranged for Jason and Damian to meet each other. It hadn't even sounded like a good idea- but Jason owed Dick, owed him almost everything, so he had went.

After all, how wrong could it go?

"Grayson told me I should apologise to you," Damian continued.

Jason threw the cigarette onto the roof tiles. It burned out.

"Apologise for what?" Jason growled. "Calling me 'the failed Robin'? Saying I was too weak to stay alive?"

"All of it."

Jason laughed hollowly. "I don't care. I don't want an apology, little prince, so if you'd be on your way I'd much appreciate it."

"I can't leave."

"Why not?"

"Because Grayson said you have to forgive me, and you haven't forgiven me yet."

Damian sat down beside Jason. He resisted the urge to shove the little brat off the roof.

"I am sorry," Damian said quietly.

"I. Do. Not. Care."

"If you did not care, you would not be here," Damian argued pompously.

"And if you were truly sorry, you wouldn't have said those things in the first place!"

"I... I didn't know it would affect you like that."

"Why did you say it? You know nothing about me!" Jason stood up, nearly falling over. His face burned in the noon sun.

"You know nothing about me either! You called me a demon!"

"Because that's what you are! A demon spawn, an accident. Something nobody ever wanted!"

And Jason knew he had gone too far, but he was so angry, and he was so tired. So much pain, and most of it in him. He deserved to share.

Damian's face went ashen. "I'm the one that nobody wants? You are a failed Robin, that's all you'll ever be! Father's biggest, ugliest mistake! Do you think they will ever love you again? All you've ever done is hurt them! Does it make you happy?"

Jason reeled back, and then pounced forward, fists raised. Damian was caught in the left side, and they both tumbled down, almost falling off the edge. Jason punched Damian square in the face, but he counterattacked with a swift kick in the gut. Finally, both collapsed onto the ground. Damian was bleeding.

Jason heaved a breath. The blood somehow lifted the veil of anger that clouded his eyes, and he buried his head in his hands.

It has never made him happy. Never.

"...I'm sorry."

Jason looked up at Damian. The blood dripped down from his nose, and somehow, it made him seem younger. A little kid battling the world.

"Me too," Jason said, not quite finding the energy to say the actual words.

"I didn't mean it. The part about... hurting them."

"No. You did mean it. But..." Jason sighed. "I won't deny the truth, I guess. I mean, I did just hurt Batman's son and all."

Damian wiped his nose. "Maybe I was jealous."

"What? Of me?"

"Of course of you," Damian scowled. "Father loves you a lot. When you came to the manor this morning, I could see it. And Grayson talks about you all the time. I know he changes his patrol routes just to meet up with you sometimes."

"Does he?" Jason asked skeptically. But that did explain all those meetings.

"Yes. Maybe Batman does too," Damian added.

Jason smiled tiredly. "That's an apology, all right. Maybe you're not so bad after all."

Damian didn't smile, but he nodded his head slightly, and that meant thank you and yes and you're okay.

"You can leave now," Jason said, turning his head back to the sky. "I forgive you."

* * *

 **Saying:**

"Woohoo!"

She bounced happily inside. Jason put his hand on his head, muttering swear words under his breath.

"Hey," Dick scolded, "I heard that."

"Why are we here?" Jason asked exasperatedly.

He grinned. Under the morning sky the carnival rolled out its tents, twinkling music rising high. The scent of freshly baked food oozed out of all corners, and the laughter and screaming of children bounced off every wall.

It gave Jason a royal headache.

"Bonding time, Jaybird," Dick responded happily. "Now that we're a whole family, we gotta spend time together!"

Stephanie bounced out of the castle with a double flip. "Come on guys, you gonna come inside?"

"No."

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "I did not expect you to be such a spoilsport. You're supposed to be the cool one!"

Jason's lip quirked. "Am I now?"

"Absolutely not," Dick rebuffed.

Tim coughed on the bench, but nobody gave him any attention.

"C'mon," Stephanie smiled, reaching out her hand. "Get inside, you two old men."

"Sorry, but I don't feel like jumping up and down like a buffoon."

"Are you serious? When was the last time you had any fun?!"

Jason thought about this for a while. "I... don't know," he said unhappily. It struck him suddenly that he had no idea how long it was between dying and living again.

Fun... It was like laughter, which were like clowns, and clowns were like Jokers, and Jokers were like the fiery pits of hell on earth...

"You know," Stephanie said knowingly, "laughter isn't all bad."

"Until the laughter stops," Jason said bitterly.

She took him slowly by the arm.

"Let's go, Jason," she said cheerfully, "and I'll show you how to be happy again."

* * *

 **Goodbye:**

"I am good."

"Yes, you are," Jason praised. "You've really gotten the hang of this."

Tim nodded happily. "You could probably hold a conversation," he added.

Cassandra smiled brightly. She never knew how much fun talking could've been.

The rain poured lightly outside the window, grey dusty clouds rolling across the sky. All the world was covered with a beige hue, and it sounded very ugly, but Jason quite liked it; it was quiet and calm and neither happy nor sad, and that was nice for a change.

Batman, Robin and Nightwing had headed out to meet the Justice League (do they remember him?), so he had been stuck with babysitting duties. Not that they couldn't handle themselves- they just liked to invite Jason to the manor, so he doesn't feel like he'd gone to the toilet in the middle of a roadtrip and everyone's gone on without him.

"So, Timmy. Decided on a name yet?"

He scrunched up his nose. "I don't know... To be honest, Dick was the best at this. Taking the mantle of Robin is easier than making your own, you know?"

Jason felt the name of Red Hood pierce his heart. "Yeah, I know." Pause. "But Cassie's got a cool name, right?"

"I am Black Bat," she stated, all the more pleased.

"And Steph used to be Spoiler," Tim recalled, "before Cass gave her Batgirl."

Jason wracked his brain. "A lot's happened since I left, hadn't it?"

Tim sucked in his lip. Cassandra, very slowly, nodded.

"You don't have to dodge it, you know," Jason said quietly. "I don't want to run from it anymore. Yeah, I died, but I'm over it. I died. I did. Over. Done."

"...We don't keep silence for you, Jason. We keep it for us."

Jason looked up, eyes shrouded in doubt. "What do you mean?"

Tim's hands failed to grasp what they were looking for, words to pull out the air and make everything make sense again. "It wasn't even... I wasn't even there. I never even knew you, but you were always there. Like a great shadow."

"Blackness," Cassandra agreed, "big blackness in empty rooms."

Jason's throat lumped.

"It wasn't like I knew grief- or Cass, really, and Damian has only just come- and I don't know, not really. We never missed you, in a sense, because you were never there, and how can we miss you when we never had you in the first place? But you were like a great big secret, and that always hangs over you like a death mark. Always a warning. And Batman would get angry sometimes and I would be afraid, and then I'd hide behind that great glass case with what was you in it- not because he'd never come there, no, that's not true... But just because I knew he'd never see me if you were there."

Tim gulped, then blushed. "Sorry, I talked too long-"

"No, it's okay. I... it's better to know, isn't it?" Jason coughed out a bitter laugh. "And I was so selfish, to think I'd hurt the most-"

"You have," Tim said sharply. "I didn't mean to-"

"No, I haven't. I haven't." Jason sighed. "I just wanted to mean something and to mean something you have to be good or you have to be hurt. I didn't think... I couldn't really feel anything when I was dying. But Bruce could. And Dick could. And you can, and Stephanie, and everyone I'd ever known. So, yeah, maybe I've been hurt. But not the most."

Cassandra shifted her leg on the sofa. "Share," she tested. "We will share."

Jason laughed, for real this time. "Share our pain?"

"Yes," she replied, unflinchingly.

Tim smiled. "That sounds like a fair deal."

"Alright, then- if we're going through with this," Jason grinned. "Does everyone in this room agree to never be hurt alone, and to always have someone hurting with them?"

"Yes!" They both cheered.

"Okay." Jason spread his hands out in front of him. "Then let's begin."

* * *

 **Well, I hoped you enjoyed this final instalment of Circumstance. Thanks for everyone who reviewed, liked, or followed this story! I hope this chapter was satisfactory, and I hope you enjoyed the overall story as well.**

 **This has really made my day, writing this story. Completing it- it makes me feel so accomplished! So thanks for sticking around, and see you next time!**


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